Chapter 7 #2
I don’t understand why he brought me here or why he thinks that anything he could say to me will get me to stop writing my story when it has to be done.
Whatever he thinks he’s going to accomplish by keeping me locked away up in this wilderness hideout, it isn’t going to happen, but it seems I may have to wait out Connor McBride.
CONNOR
The heat of the morning sunlight finally starts to cut through the pre-dawn mist that always settles over the mountain, melting it away slowly, but it can’t do anything to dispel any of the frustration still pent up inside me.
I raise the axe again and drive it down into another piece of wood, sending the pieces flying onto the growing piles around me.
When I’m up here alone, I barely heat the cabin unless I need to cook something. I prefer it chilly in there because that’s the way I always feel—cold, dead, and empty inside.
The warmth tends to lull me to sleep, and sleeping opens the door to the nightmares I can’t outrun, not even up here.
It might not be practical to keep the stove off once winter hits, but I’ll deal with that problem when it comes. Right now, my only problem is the blond one currently rummaging around the cabin and no doubt judging every fucking thing she sees.
Raven probably has a list of questions already—intrusive ones that I have zero plans to answer.
Once I get her settled, I can come out here and work until my hands bleed. Pretend she doesn’t even exist like I have so often over the years. But not just yet.
After a hike like that, Raven must be cold and exhausted, and despite my anger with her right now—and pretty much always—the thought of her being uncomfortable any more so than she already has to be creates a feeling in me I’m not at all ready to accept is there.
I’d rather focus on the task at hand than the frustration Raven produces.
Chopping firewood to keep the cabin heated for her gives me something to concentrate on instead of the situation I now find myself—with the one person I don’t want anywhere near me in the one place I could always come to be alone.
Like an approaching storm, I sense her before I catch a glimpse of her blond hair out of the corner of my eye.
She stops a few feet away, apparently waiting for me to do or say something.
When I don’t, she finally motions absently backward toward the cabin.
“Whatever you put on the stove is warm if you want to come eat.”
I shake my head, set up another log, and drive the axe down into it. “That’s for you. I figured you’d be hungry.”
“Oh.” She runs a hand through her hair now a tangled mess filled with leaves, twigs, and other bits of foliage from the hike. “Umm. Thanks.”
Hell…
That’s something I never thought I’d hear from her lips.
Gratitude rather than contempt.
But I know her well enough that I understand I won’t hear it again. Certainly not when I’m keeping her here, against her will, in that shitty cabin…
For as long as it takes.
I break down another log, then another, as she stands awkwardly behind me, not saying a word. Finally, I turn to face her. “Are you just going to stand there watching me?”
She swallows thickly, suddenly looking uneasy with me for the first time in our lives rather than just angry. “No, I…I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck we’re doing up here.”
You and me, both.
I release a heavy sigh and lean the axe head onto the ground. “We’re up here so you don’t get yourself killed.”
Those perfect pink lips of hers press together tightly, and any gratitude I may have thought I saw only a few moments ago is long gone.
“I’m not going to bury the story, Connor.
Believe me, I know all the dangers I’m taking on by writing it, by digging into the Lorells and their business, and I’ve accepted them. ”
“What about the dangers to everyone else around you?”
Her jaw tightens, and she glances away. “I think everyone involved would be more than willing to accept them if it meant that there was a chance that we could end their entire organization for good, a chance that we could eliminate any potential threat and any future danger.”
I shift my grip on the axe, ready to swing it up and drive it into another log to end this conversation. “Don’t you think you should ask them that instead of making the assumption?”
She purses her lips, looking absolutely unfazed by the way I’m pointing out the error of her decisions.
“I’ve known all of you my entire life, save for Lucky, but you know she’s one of my best friends and I know her pretty damn well.
I think all of us want this to be over. Truly over.
I’ve seen the way you are on the homestead, how uneasy it makes you.
That’s because of what they did, Connor. ”
Like I need reminding of that.
What I need is for Raven to leave me the fuck alone, as much as is possible up here. At least for a while.
I need some time to think, to figure out a fucking plan beyond the one that got us here.
Her green eyes that match the grass beneath our feet drift over to the foundation of the new cabin. “You did all this?” When I don’t answer, her gaze flicks back to me. “You’re planning to move up here.”
Fuck.
When I decided to bring her up here, I didn’t think about what it would mean, that my secret would be revealed, that she would tell my brothers that I plan on leaving the homestead and coming up here for good, but now the cat’s out of the bag.
“It’s best for everyone if I do.”
Her soft brow furrows. “Do you really believe that?”
I lift the axe again, set up another log, and slam it there to work out my ever-growing frustration with her and her observational skills. “I’m not safe to be around, Raven.”
“Yet, here I am.” She spreads her arms out wide. “Trapped up here with you. Just the two of us.”
Shit.
When she puts it like that…
“It was the only way I could think of to handle any of this.”
She shakes her head, tapping her booted foot. “I already told you I’m not killing the story.”
I snap my head up to glare at her. “That’s not why I brought you up here.”
One of her pale brows rises. “What do you mean?”
A low growl slips from my throat, even though I try to swallow it back.
“I know you well enough that I understand there’s no talking you out of something once you have your mind set on it.
You’re going to write that story, one damn way or another.
At least, if you do it up here, no one will know what you’re working on, and if it’s too late and they already do, no one will be able to find you.
You can finish it, and you can send it wherever it needs to go, and the Lorells won’t be able to touch you. ”
Her back stiffens. “You want me to finish the story?”
The disbelief in her voice only makes me angrier at her for ever putting herself—or the rest of us—in this position.
“If there’s even a chance that your story might bring them down, might actually assist the FBI in what they’ve been unable to do for the last several decades?
Then yes, I want you to finish the fucking story.
I don’t want to look over my shoulder all the time.
I don’t want to have sleepless nights, worrying about who might come onto the homestead while I’m not alert enough to defend it.
And I sure as hell don’t want to have more blood on my hands if they do come for us. ”
She stands and stares at me for a few moments as the sun continues to rise, the rays spilling out over the tree tops and through the clearing, making her hair almost glow around her like a goddamn firefly.
A bright spot in a place that’s been so dark and lifeless for so long.
It’s too bad all she does is rile me up and piss me off, because Raven is fucking beautiful, even when she’s mad. Always has been. If only that beauty weren’t eclipsed by her shitty attitude toward me all the time.
“I could’ve done all those things at a nice hotel in Raleigh.”
I snort and shake my head. “No, you couldn’t.”
Raven releases a frustrated sound and paces in a small circle, tugging at her hair. “Why?”
“Why what?”
She throws up her hands. “Why are you doing any of this when you hate me so much?”
That’s what I’ve been asking myself since the moment I followed her to Atlanta. But I’m not about to explain my reasoning to her. She wouldn’t believe me anyway.
“Go in and eat, then get to work.”
She eyes me suspiciously, then swallows thickly. “You’re serious about this.”
“Dead serious.”
“And you’ll answer my questions?”
I clench my jaw, wishing like hell that I could tell her no, that I could shut down the memories of that day and of what I did and pretend none of it ever happened.
For months, I’ve been fighting talking about it with everyone, all the people who have reached out and attempted to get me to open up about it have had a door slammed unceremoniously in their faces.
But I know what she’s asking and why. She needs it… she needs me.
I’m the one who pulled the trigger. I’m the one who drove that axe into Brent Lorell’s head. I’m the one who drove a dying Liam to Asheville in a frantic attempt to save his life. I’m the one who did it all.
Her story won’t be complete without what I know, without what I have to say, no matter how painful it will be to actually voice it—especially to a viper like Raven Perry.
But just like she didn’t when I dragged her up here, I don’t have a choice.
“When the time comes, I will. Whether I like it or not.”